


Re- acquaintances

by Ja_Wren



Series: Meeting the people in Johns life [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-04
Updated: 2013-03-23
Packaged: 2017-11-28 05:07:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 13,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/670601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ja_Wren/pseuds/Ja_Wren
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John re-meets the people from his past and forms more permanent relationships.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. an angel and his lucky charm

**Author's Note:**

> Authors note: Hello, this is a story that is the sequel to my first story First meetings (I highly recommend reading that one first); the chapters will be sporadic in length as I will be attempting to delve into the thoughts and reactions of the other characters. The segments might flow into each other or jump around, because I am taking my cues from the first episode A Study in Pink as well as trying to tie it into my other story. Hopefully in the end it will make sense. And as always I will be correcting errors along the way as it seems I am incapable of catching them all after the first read through.

As spring slowly turned into summer and John was still attending his disastrous therapy sessions with a person that diagnosed him the second he walked in with a cane. During today’s session John once again refused to say a word, but Watson stubbornness made him attend the appointments, leaving him to stew in silence for an hour every week. In the end today he got another mark in his file saying Trust Issues but that was not right. John trusted his men he led, he trusted his superiors in the army, he trusted his sister to drink, and he trusted his parents to continue to ignore him as they have done since he left at the age of sixteen; John just didn't trust the person who judged and diagnosed him before he even sat down the very first time they met. After today’s session John felt nostalgic and decided to go to the Market visitor car park, while walking through he heard his name being called.

“John, John Watson” John turned around to look at a round faced man pointing to himself “Stamford, Mike Stamford. We were at Barts together.” A younger, more Muscular version of the man before him with a slight obsession of James bond flashed in Johns mind, though where the muscle left the Bond apparently did not. 

“Yes, sorry yes, Mike hello.” John offered his hand. 

“Yeah I know I got fat” John automatically said no but was ignored “I heard you were abroad somewhere getting shot at, what happened?”

John frowned before gesturing to himself “I got shot.” That simple statement created a deafening silence full of awkwardness and Confusion on Mike’s part it seemed he couldn't believe that John was still alive. John felt guilty for the silence and saw the café he used to go to as a student of Barts. “Sorry” John didn't know what he was apologizing for but it seemed right. “Did you want to get a Coffee?”

“Sure” Mike seemed happier but growing tenser with not knowing what to do. So John and Mike got their beverages in silence and walked back towards the park to claim an unused bench. John automatically surveyed the grounds and pieced together that Mike, being near Barts, gave him another opportunity to, maybe, end the nervousness caused by Johns in ability to control his feelings.

“So you still at Barts then?” 

“Teaching now,” John nodded. “Bright young things like we used to be, God I hate them. What about you then, just staying in town until you get yourself sorted?”

“I can’t afford London on an Army Pension”

“Ahhhnd you couldn't bear to be anywhere else, that’s not the John Watson I know.”

“Yeah well I’m not the John Watson you know” Anger surged through John reminding him that the John Watson people knew wasn't an invalid and to bring that thought home his left hand started to tremble.

“ Couldn't Harry help?” John laughed at this, Mike met Harry twice. The first time was one terrible reading week when Harry was dumped by her high school girlfriend; the second was at Graduation where Mike and Harry got too drunk forcing John to take care of them. 

“Yeah, like that’s going to happen.” Mike felt a sudden sense of duty to find a solution for his old friend. 

“You can find a flat share or something?” Mike said while thinking of Sherlock, who had run of Barts due to his family’s contributions to the Chemistry programme, the school going so far as to name the Chemistry wing after the Holmes family and giving Sherlock his honorary Degree after he Dropped out of his own Ivy League University.

“Come on, who would want me for a flatmate.” Mike laughed at the odd sensation of déjà vu. “What?”

“You’re the second person to say that to me today” Mike explained to his explosive friend. 

John’s interest was piqued. “Who was the first?”

Mike grinned like the cat that caught the canary “You wouldn't believe me if I told you, I’ll introduce you now he should be in the chem labs now.” Mike was up and on his way to St. Barts leaving John to follow him. John was in Awe of the changes made to the facility making him almost walk into Mike when he stopped in front of a door. Mike quickly knocked and let himself in, holding the door open for John he kept glancing at the man standing over a lab light. John took a cursory glance of the room and ignored the man at the lab table in favour of remembering what the room used to look like.

“It’s a bit different from my day”

“You have no idea” Mike responded still far too intent on the other man in the room he seemed almost star struck by him in John’s opinion. 

“Mike can I borrow your phone, there’s no signal on mine.” The man sounded bored with words and John finally gave him his full attention. 

“And what’s wrong with the land line” Mike hoped it wasn't’ down their I.T. guy had died that week and a replacement hadn't been found yet. Mike was pretty sure that Sherlock was experimenting on the man’s body as well.

“Mmmno I prefer to text.” John frowned his mind was frantically working out why this man was so familiar.

“Sorry it’s in my coat” Mike mumbled after patting down his pockets. 

Recognition Struck John like lightning. “Here, you can use mine.” John’s phone was out before he finished talking. 

“Oh, Thank-you” Sherlock looked to mike with knowingly. John stood stunned and stared at the healthier version of the man who considered him an angel. John often thought of his last night in London remembering the supposed good luck kiss and John did feel lucky after completing his first two tours of duty without injury.

“That’s an old friend of mine, John Watson.” Mike introduced waving in the general direction of John. As John handed his phone over and not finding any recognition on the Sherlock’s face, John smirked realizing he had a slight upper hand in this meeting.   
Though if Sherlock had figured out his life story while high he wondered what the man could do clean and sober. 

“Afghanistan or Iraq.” Sherlock demanded interrupting John’s thoughts. 

“Sorry?”

“Which was it, Afghanistan or Iraq?” John noticed the difference in the man immediately this Sherlock was quicker and needed a less hands on examination, maybe John and Sherlock were on even ground in this meeting. 

“Afghanistan how did you…?” John was interested in the thought process he had heard it once before but John thought he would never tire of listening to the quick logic involved in the unique process, but Johns question was cut off by Sherlock.

“Ah, Molly, Coffee thank-you.” John glanced at the person named molly who seemed to hover beside John. “What happened to the lipstick?” After this question John remembered why he was called an angel that night all those years ago. Maybe Sherlock really did want to find a flat mate and, John agreed, that listing of someone’s life story was a sure fire way to scare off most people. Sherlock interrupted John’s thoughts once again. “How do you feel about the violin?”

“Sorry?” John looked around, finding that Molly had left without him noticing.

“I play the violin when I’m thinking sometimes I don’t talk days on end. Would that bother you? Potential flat mates should know the worst about each other.”

“Who said anything about flat mates?” John asked trying to get the man to say aloud his thought process. 

“I did, I told Mike this morning that I must be a difficult man to find a flat mate for, and now here he is just after lunch with an old friend clearly home from military service in Afghanistan, wasn't that difficult a leap.” 

John was encouraged with that response and decided to ask once again about Sherlock’s previous conclusion of his past “How did you know about Afghanistan?” Sherlock ignored the question once again and reaffirmed John’s suspicions about how Sherlock’s reasoning was treated. 

“ I've got my eye on a nice little place in central London together we ought to be able to afford it, well meet there tomorrow evening seven O’clock. Sorry got to dash forgot my riding crop in the mortuary.” 

John was stunned at how idiotic the man still was it seemed the more brilliant he got that slight idiocy was fighting to keep him within reach of the rest of the human race, so John prompted the man. “Is that it?”

“Is that what?” Sherlock seemed to be going over the conversation while staring intently at John, almost asking for an explanation. 

“I don’t know where we are meeting in central London” John said, making Sherlock frown.

“Oh, right of course” Sherlock was still frowning and examining John like he was another species. Sherlock was expecting a more volatile response after ignoring John inquiries. “The address is two-two-one B Baker Street.” Sherlock relayed the address and was out the door before John could utter another word. 

“You handled that better than most” Mike looked pleased with himself. 

“Well I am not like most now am I? I will see you around Mike; I better let you get back to work.” Mikes reaction to being reminded of work was immediate apparently he forgotten about his class and was fifteen minutes late; and John was left to show himself out of St. Bartholomew’s Hospital.


	2. stalking an angel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock follows John through the city and decided he has found his ne flatmate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t not make money or own any of the characters I just warp them to my own plots.

Sherlock Pondered his potential flatmate, he couldn’t deduce much about this John Watson. The military training was so ingrained in the man that Sherlock, if he didn’t know it was impossible, would have thought that John Watson was born with Dog tags around his neck. The only personal item John Watson owned was not even his own, Sherlock knew more Personal Information about the man’s alcoholic divorced brother. His clothes told even less about the potential flat mate except that he walked a lot all over the city. The jacket was military cut (familiarity), the shirt was a button up cotton blend (buttons suggests wanting to look professional, no plaid suggest otherwise, therefore easy to get in and out of, pliable material as to not hinder movement. Why? Upper body injury, possibly to a shoulder. ) the jeans (easy enough, fabric is closer to the material used in army fatigues, also worn for familiarity), shoes (casual, tan in colour, three months old and already broken in, takes good care of them, wear on the heels slightly uneven due to limp). And after all that it only added an injury, also it confirmed to Sherlock that the man was used to having a uniform.

Sherlock had every intention of going back to his flat and relaxing after he helped solve one D.I. Gregsons last cases before his retirement. Instead as Sherlock walked out of St. Barts he saw the ire of his thoughts, a man so plain he was a complete mystery. Sherlock decided to follow him to see if he could learn more. The more Sherlock observed John, Sherlock realized that the other man wasn’t walking he was patrolling, scouting the land; John navigated around the street fixtures cautiously. He gave a wider birth to rubbish bins, never walked on top of man holes or grates that had access to the underground, he never walked directly under trees but didn’t leave the cover the foliage provided, and he looked down every ally. This made Sherlock’s surveillance a challenge, he couldn’t avoid the Cctv cameras completely so he gave up that endeavour and he was constantly forced to change his appearance if he wanted to get a closer look. He almost got caught when he walked through alleyways, forcing Sherlock to change his plan of action once more. The rooftops didn’t let him see much, and defeated the purpose of following John. When Sherlock realized he had been following John for an hour he decided to start moving into the flat in central London.

Sherlock went over what he had learned of the man while he organized his move with Ms. Hudson. John was an army doctor; he was used to looking out for bombs and hidden insurgents (so he worked close to the front lines). He shopped at Holland& Barrett (most likely for their selection of herbal teas rather than the Organic, Vegan, all natural, supplements). In the end after an hour Sherlock still couldn’t figure out the man who looked at him like he was an idiot, Him Sherlock Bertram Holmes was not an idiot, but Sherlock did add problems sleeping to the list of things known.

The next day Sherlock found himself carefully transferring experiments into the newly rented flat. Though Mrs. Hudson approved of his work she wasn’t too keen on the process so he waited until she went to the shops before moving the more biological ones. He didn’t care too much about the rest of his possessions aside from his beloved Violin. His next self-assigned task was to reacquaint himself with himself with the homeless network and contacts around this particular part of London. Sherlock was not going to let this puzzle of John Watson get the best of him. After completing his errands Sherlock made it just in time to intercept John outside of 221B Baker St.


	3. a concerned brother

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mycroft investigates his brothers new flat mate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t not make money or own any of the characters I just warp them to my own plots.

Mycroft was exhausted, the election had finally ended and now he once again had to sway the political party’s way of thinking to the proper way. The minor members were easy considering he officially held a ‘minor’ position in the government, though at the moment he was in a meeting with the party leaders. Midway through listing off the leaders’ dirty laundry Mycroft’s assistant came in and informed him of his brother’s movements. It seemed he had found a flat mate and was now moving. Mycroft wasn’t sure how, but his brother always chose the most inopportune moments to act impulsively. With a sigh Mycroft returned to the meeting, by the end of which, he knew he had to dismiss at least one member of their post at the government. He also planned little reminders along the year for the other members that for now seem to accept that this was not a democracy but still in fact a monarchy. 

The CcTv coverage was on his computer by the time he got to his office, and Mycroft watched as his brother leave Barts and flounder for a second, It took Sherlock only a moment before he decided to, what appears to be, trail someone. Throughout the connected footage Mycroft watched his brother pick-pocket accessories from people, dodge into a back ally, and return without them only to do it all over again every few blocks, odder Still was that Sherlock only resorted to roof tops twice during his trek, the first when he skipped a corner near the beginning and the second when he took off in an entirely different direction of the one he was headed in for an hour. The next image of him was when he made it to Baker Street. Mycroft requested the footage for 5 minutes before his brother’s appearance. It took Mycroft less than a minute to figure out it was the man with the cane his brother was following, and only a couple more to realize that it was the potential flatmate. 

Mycroft watched the footage of the man and understood his brother’s need to stalk this person. He was military, and therefore hard to read, it seemed this man only recently lost his position within the brotherhood of soldiers. Mycroft ordered the history report up to date. Once that was done he prepared for his weekly meeting with the queen. This meeting was particularly important, considering Mycroft was going to be informing the queen who she will be meeting early in the next week. 

When the meeting was over Mycroft returned to his office expecting a detailed report on his computer. He was informed that the Military did a rather thorough cover up of the incident that sent him home. This delay gave Mycroft a little bit of free time and allowed him to enjoy a cup of tea. Fifteen minutes later a very thick file was handed over to him, it was explained that obtaining hard copies of everything was faster than to convert the man’s life to the computer, though his post-secondary school records and some of his military career was recorded digitally. Mycroft picked up the file and almost dropped it again. The file was labeled John Hamish Watson III, Mycroft’s eyes on their own accord found the long forgotten map from his ordered attendance at RMA Sandhurst. To Mycroft’s knowledge the trail marked on the map was still the fastest way to get thought that particular course. 

As Mycroft opened the folder he remembered all he could about the Captain that Drew out his final project, it was the first time Mycroft didn’t have to do the work for himself. Now looking at the man in the picture taken today, he couldn’t help compare. Gone were the laugh lines, it now seemed that the man traded in a happy face for one made for constant concentration. The kind and honest eyes were there, but only in parody of what they once were. Mycroft could see the Danger and hardness simmering just below the blue irises it seemed the man put in metaphorical contacts for the benefit of the general public.

Mycroft Skimmed through the file and reading notes that his team put in. John was emancipated from his alcoholic parents at the age of sixteen (Catherine and John Watson live in Leeds and are coming up to seventeen years sober, it appears losing their youngest child forced them to sober up). John graduated top of his year from King Edwards Grammar school (and promptly joined the army). John obtained his Doctorate at Kings University (he completed his practicum at St Bartholomew’s hospital). Attended the Royal Military Academy Sandhurst and received the highest scores for the year and was considered the best cadet overall (still holds the record for fastest second term field trial). Served two complete tours in the army (received the Military cross all three times and the Victorian cross during the final tour). At the end of his first tour John lost half of his men ( Injuries, promotion, and a couple had died) He had saved Tim Parker a Lord with close ties to the royal family (earning his first military cross and earning his unit a position near the front lines). During his second tour (he lost the other half same reasons as the first tour) he saved another lord this time a minor one but still someone who had a lot of sway in some circles (this earned him another military cross). During leave between the second and final tour of duty john attended an annual charity event held by the current Lord McNamara and his sister Lady Quinn (The charity was set up in the honour of their late parents who died in a car accident with their younger sibling.) John’s third tour of duty was like the rest until the day he got shot. He now currently resides in Military provided housing. 

Mycroft thoroughly read through all of the reports concerning John’s final day in the army, it seemed that a colonel was dismissed the same day John was discharged. Mycroft suspected that the men were covering for their colonel and the military seemed to try and dismiss the mystery man before proper procedure was followed, for the first time effectively covering up an incident that even Mycroft couldn’t reveal. The Colonel’s and Captains’ reports were missing. 

Giving Up looking for the full story Mycroft skimmed through the medical reports. Barely anything was in it until he joined the army (had fractures prior to the army all set properly mainly ribs and the same arm twice suspected self-treatment due to the second arm break being an intentional compound fracture ). Made a full recovery from the through and through bullet to the shoulder and the stab wound to his leg. The Physiotherapy had plateaued which apparently lead to the psychosomatic limp and the intermittent tremor, John was honourably discharged that month. Mycroft ignored the therapy reports only taking note of the PTSD and apparent trust issues. Mycroft sent an email out to schedule a meeting with Dr. Watson the following day.


	4. being brought down to earth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock finds out that John has met him before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t not make money or own any of the characters I just warp them to my own plots.

Chapter 4:

John took his time returning to his bedsit, this time happier than when he left. He couldn’t believe he found his good luck charm; John sat upon his bed and checked the text that Sherlock had sent off all it said was if brother has green ladder arrest brother. John decided to look Sherlock up, John was thrilled to find the Website even though there was little to no information but it was a start. 

The next day John found himself wondering what to do while he waited the twelve hours until he met up with Sherlock. He contacted his sister for his forced check in and decided that a brunch would be nice since his sister was apparently between binges. After visiting his sister, John realized it had been years since he had seen her sober, by his calculation it had been before he left home so 19 years. John in that instant realized it had been 19 years since he had talked to his parents as well, he didn’t even know if they were still alive. John also phoned Clara, the conversation started awkwardly and ended horribly. Harry apparently didn’t tell Clara that she had given the phone over to John. John consoled his sister-In-law best he could and when this was all over John decided to walk to 221B Baker Street. As john knocked on the door he was greeted from the street behind him.

“Hello”  
“Ahh, Mr. Holmes.” John greeted holding out his hand.  
“Sherlock please” 

The door opened, after that comment and revealed a kindly looking woman dressed in purple. “Sherlock” was all she said before hugging the Consulting detective. 

“Mrs. Hudson. Dr. John Watson”. Sherlock introduced as the trio made their way up that stairs. John scanned the room he entered, it was a mess though a few items popped out at him, mainly the science equipment. 

“Moved in already?” John asked   
“I can tidy up a bit”. Sherlock started pushing things around the room, and john watched him move gracefully around the clutter.

“What do you think Dr. Watson, there’s another bedroom up stairs if you need two bedrooms” Asked the landlady. 

“Of course we’ll need two” John said confused. 

“Oh don’t worry dear, there’s all sorts round here” Mrs. Hudson’s voice dropped to a stage whisper. “Mrs. Tuner next door got married ones.” John really didn’t know how to respond to that so but it seemed he didn’t have to “Oh Sherlock the mess you’ve made” Came a small yell from the kitchen. While John sat in the chair Sherlock just threw a union jack pillow. 

“I looked you up on the internet last night” John said casually.  
‘Find anything interesting?”  
“Found your website, The Science of deduction” Sherlock smiled at this.  
“What did you think?”  
“How can you identify a software designer by his tie, or …an airline pilot by his left thumb?”   
“The same way I can identify your military career by your face and leg and your brother’s drinking habits from his phone”   
“Yes I asked how?” Sherlock just ignored the question and it was starting to frustrate John. He decided to just tell Sherlock that they met before John opened his mouth to speak but was cut off by Mrs. Hudson. 

“What about these suicides then Sherlock? I thought that would be right up your street, Three exactly the same”. 

“Four, there’s been a fourth and there is something different this time”  
“A fourth Mrs. Hudson exclaimed as she put the newspaper on johns arm rest. But her voice was drowned out by the thumping of steps coming up the stairs. “Where?” Sherlock asked the unknown person.

“Brixton, Lauriston Gardens” answered the man John knew as the D.I. who helped him with Sherlock the night before he was deployed. John couldn’t believe it so far he has re-met two people from his past, thinking about the other people he has met he wondered if this trend was going to continue, one he was guaranteed to re-meet this was Sherlock’s brother who John was convinced the same Mycroft that he knew from Sandhurst. Now John had to somehow tell two people that he knew them. 

“Brilliant!” Sherlock exclaimed and jumped in the classic TV celebration kind of way. John didn’t realize people did that in real life. “Four serial suicides and now a note, it’s Christmas” Sherlock was making him dizzy with his spinning around “Mrs. Hudson, might be late. Might need some food”.  
“I’m your landlady dear, not your house keeper”  
“Something cold will do, John have a cup of tea and make yourself at home, don’t wait up” Sherlock shot out the door before he stopped talking.

“Look at him dashing about; my husband was just the same.”  
“Yeah, he certainly is livelier than the last time I met him, Oh and where is Mr. Hudson.”  
“I am a widow; I hadn’t realized you knew Sherlock.”  
“Sorry to hear…”  
“Don’t be dear Sherlock was the one to ensure that he died in Florida. So how do you know Sherlock?”  
“Well I don’t know him, though we have met about 5 years ago. Ran into him at a pub, just before I was deployed, I have been trying to tell him but I always seem to be interrupted”.   
“Now seems like a good time for that conversation John” Sherlock said from the doorway making John and Mrs., Hudson jump. “You can tell me in the cab” and once again Sherlock left the room.   
“You better go dear, before you lose your chance to have that chat”.  
“Right thank you Mrs. Hudson”

John made his way onto the street just in time to see a cab pull up beside the curb. As John entered the car, he felt as though he stepped into an interrogation room. John took a breath to get used to the atmosphere within the small cab.   
“Why didn’t you tell me yesterday?”  
John looked at the man and almost flinched at the intense gaze focused on him. “Mike deals in favors. I didn’t want him having more knowledge that he already has.”  
“Yes, agreed Mike is the sort to hoard information. I think he fancies himself a spy; I assume you met me while I was high, and probably a hallucinogen because I deleted most of those experiences.”  
“How can you delete your life? Though at the time I admit I didn’t believe you would remember any of it, because yes you were high”.  
“I treat my brain like a hard drive, and like you clean out your computer of unnecessary files, I do so with my brain. My mind is a gift, and I made a promise to look after it” Sherlock examined johns face “what?”  
“I didn’t think you would take what I said to heart, I told you that. You promised me you would get clean, I thought maybe you would start heading in the right direction.”  
“That was you? You sealed that promise with a kiss.”  
“And you thought I was an angel if I recall, you were right though” John smiled.  
“Of course I was right, I’m always right… what was I right about?”  
“It is good luck to kiss a soldier good-bye.” Sherlock seemed to blush “I was shot in the shoulder, luckily by the best person possible, I also died three times and even with that I made a full recovery physically that is, mentally not so much.” John gestured to his leg “I am betting D.I. Lestrade has forgotten me as well.”

“I think he forgot that you were just a soldier. He renewed his faith after that night, I think he prays to you about me, usually when I get irritable and close to relapse only got really close twice, he usually pulls me back at the last minute. You changed so much in a couple of hours John, I think maybe both of us thought you were other worldly. Lestrade and I wouldn’t have the relationship we have now if not for you.”

John was shocked, first at the admission, and secondly at the emotion Sherlock was showing, even high, emotion was low if not present at all on the man’s face. “All of that, just because I thought you were amazing.”  
“You are still the only one to think that, even Lestrade had to get used to my crassness.” Sherlock explained. “Why is it that you seem so intent on hearing how I deduce things?” 

“Well, I got a glimpse of the result, it’s selfish really, I was so entranced by you listing off facts and then telling me the story of a person’s life, even though it was my own. I never hid my past, never openly talked about it either but you knew, from looking at my hands of all things.”

“Wait, I deduced your past, Give me your hand, you are almost impossible to deduce by just looking at you.” Sherlock demanded his hand once more. “I know more about your brother than I do you.” John laughed, “What?”  
“You demanded my hand the last time too.” And John gave Sherlock his left hand, and it twitched a bit. “Sorry” as Sherlock examined his hand once more this time only taking a few seconds before asking for the other one.   
“So you know what I deduced from your hands”   
“Yes, most of it. I don’t know what you can tell from the new scars.”  
“Did you want to hear my deductions?” 

“Yes, I would.”

“So starting from yesterday, your hair cut and the way you hold yourself says military, your conversation said you trained at Bart’s, Army doctor. Your face is tanned but not above the wrist, you have been abroad but not sunbathing. Your limp is really bad when you walk, but you don’t ask for a chair and you stand like you forgotten about it, so it is at least partly psychosomatic. That says the original injury was Traumatic, Wounded in action. So you have been to either Afghanistan or Iraq. You have a psychosomatic limp, so you have a therapist. Your phone” John automatically hands over his mobile. “Tells me about your brother, it’s expensive, email enabled, MP3 player. You are looking for a flat share and wouldn’t waste money on this, it’s a gift then. The scratches, not one, many over time, this phone has been in the same pocket as keys and coins. You wouldn’t treat your luxury item like that so, previous owner. Clearly a family member, you know that deduction already”  
“The engraving”  
“Wouldn’t be your father, this is a young man’s gadget. You’re a war hero who can’t find a place to live; unlikely you have extended family, especially one you’re close to, so brother it is. Now Clara who’s Clara, three kisses means romantic attachment, the expense of the gift says Wife not Girlfriend, must have given it to him recently this phone is only 6 months old, marriage in trouble. Only six months old and giving it away, if she left him he would have kept it, sentiment, people do that, but no he wanted rid of it so he left her. He gave the phone to you that mean he wants to stay in touch, but you won’t go to him for help that says you have a problem with him, maybe you liked his wife, and maybe you don’t like his drinking.”  
“How can you possibly know about the drinking?”  
“Shot in the dark a good one though, the power connection has scratches around the edge of it. Every night he goes to plug it in to charge but his hands are shaking. Never see those marks on a sober man’s phone; never see drunks without them.”

“That was remarkable, truly extraordinary” John exclaimed as they neared Brixton. And John felt nervous about seeing Lestrade again.


	5. Murder and reminders

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John is dragged to a Crime scene and is officially introduced to Greg Lestrade

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t not make money or own any of the characters I just warp them to my own plots.

Chapter 5:

Sherlock and John exited the cab; John started to follow Sherlock to the police tape. “Did I get anything wrong?” Sherlock asked looking expectantly at John. 

“Harry and me don’t get on, never have. Clara and Harry split up three months ago, they are getting a divorce. And Harry is a drinker”

“Spot on then, I didn’t expect to be right about everything.”

“Harry is short for Harriet” the comment made Sherlock stop. 

“Sister!” “What exactly am I supposed to be doing here” “your sister” “no seriously what am I doing here?” “There is always something” their one sided conversations was interrupted by a woman’s sneering voice.

“’ello freak.” The greeting seemed regular enough occurrence that Sherlock didn’t even blink.

“I’m here to see Detective Inspector Lestrade.” Sherlock sounded like a nobleman talking to a peasant.

“Why?”

“I was invited”

“Why?” at this continued tedium of conversation John was reminded of playing the same game with his sister and for a while he got punched, until he had leverage over her that is.

“I think he wants me to take a look”

“Well you know what I think don’t you?”

“Always sally.” Sherlock wrinkled his nose as he ducked under the police tape. “Even though you didn’t make it home last night.” Sherlock gestured for John to follow.

“I d… who’s this?” The woman stuttered and tried to take the attention off of her.

“Colleague of mine, Dr. Watson. Dr. Watson, Sergeant Sally Donovan … Old friend” Sherlock seemed to be hinting at the smell of Old spice that was clinging to the woman. John seriously doubted the Woman was a friend. 

“A colleague? How did you get a colleague?” she looked disbelieving at Sherlock. “Did he follow you home?” Sally finally asked John. 

“Other way round actually” sally looked startled “Ta” John said as he walked under the tape Sherlock was holding up for him. Sally walked toward the very busy building and called in their arrival. As they walked through the mess of people Sherlock was looking and examining every little detail on the pathway towards the front door. Their steady pace was interrupted by a pale man who looked like he should be living with a rat named ben* in the building than to be part of the team examining it.   
“Ahh Anderson, here we are again” Sherlock said scanning the man before him with disdain.  
“It’s a crime scene, I don’t want it contaminated, are we clear on that?”

“Quite clear,” John was sure he wasn’t talking about the crime scene. Sherlock stared in the man’s direction a bit longer; it seemed he was trying to find the best possible way to create as much havoc he could with words. Sherlock finally settled on “Is your wife gone long?”

“Oh don’t pretend you worked that out. Someone told you that.” This comment confused John, Who would voluntarily make small talk with Sherlock about a person Sherlock obviously saw as little more than an insect that needed to be squished?

“Your deodorant told me that.”

“My deodorant?”

“It’s for men” Sherlock said like it explained everything.

“Of course it’s for men, I’m wearing it” John got more, and more amused the farther this conversation continued.

“So Is Sgt. Donovan.” Anderson looked scared and nervous at the statement he turned to look at Donovan who stood behind him. Sherlock looked mildly disgusted “I think it just vaporized.” At this statement John couldn’t hold back his laughter and let out a giggle. “May I go in?”

Anderson feeling insulted looked to John “What are you laughing at Cr...” the insult upon Anderson’s lips was interrupted by a now very stern looking Sherlock.

“Come along John”

“Oh, right” John followed Sherlock through the doorway and headed towards the staircase, where Lestrade was staring at the Pair.

“He’s with me”

“Yeah well who is he?” John looked at Sherlock in an, I told you so fashion.

“That is something I would prefer not to talk about in front of people who don’t know of my past Lestrade.” And Sherlock moved up the stairs, while Lestrade studied John, taking in his appearance from head to toe. Still looking confused Lestrade followed Sherlock up the stairs while spewing facts about the victim. John assumed he was headed towards a dead body that would be added to the list of suicides.

“I can give you two minutes” Lestrade declared after they entered the room which was empty aside from a creepy rocking horse in a corner and a very brightly covered dead body.

“May need more” Sherlock stared at everything in the room before focusing on Jennifer Wilson. The room went silent except their breathing “Shut up” Sherlock yelled making John jump.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You were thinking it’s annoying”

Lestrade decided to study John instead as if staring at him would tell him who John was. Sherlock moved further into the room and knelt down beside the body, John followed the forward movement unconsciously. Sherlock was hovering and examining the body and zoned out, leaving John to stare down Lestrade, Lestrade lost the stare down and deflected. “Got anything?”

“Not much” Sherlock smirked knowing that not much usually led to a break in the case.

“She’s German.” Came a condescending voice from the doorway. “Rache, it’s German for Revenge.” Anderson explained.

“Thank you for your input. “ Sherlock said. While checking his phone Sherlock slammed the door on Anderson’s face.

“So she’s German?” Lestrade asked confused.

“No, of course not she is from out of town. Intended to stay in London for one night before returning home to Cardiff, so far so obvious”

“How is that obvious” “what about the message?” “Dr. Watson what do you think?”

“About the message?” John asked joining two questions he heard. 

“The body you are a medical man.”   
“No I have a whole team outside for that”

“They won’t work with me.”

“I’m breaking every rule letting you in here”

“Yes because you need me”

“Yes I do, God help me”

“Sherlock I followed you here because you demanded I explain how I met you 5 years ago not to examine a body that was obviously poisoned and most likely asphyxiated I read the newspapers, and I did become more observational after that night learning that if you looked hard enough you can figure unexpected things out.” John ranted, as Sherlock studied this reaction.

“You’re that Angel bloke.” Lestrade burst out. “You did look familiar”

“He is not an angel Lestrade just a very interesting Army doctor, named John.” 

“Right John is your name, war wasn’t kind to you.” Lestrade said gesturing to John’s leg. Johns shifted uncomfortably. “Ahh sorry, Right Sherlock, I said two minutes I need everything you got. 

“Victim was in her late 30’s, Professional woman judging by her clothes, I am guessing something in the media going by the frankly alarming shade of pink.” John tried to figure out how Sherlock figured this out ignoring the repeated information about Cardiff, giving up when Sherlock moved on to new deductions “She’s been married for at least ten years, but not happily she’s had a string of lovers, but none of them knew she was married.” Sherlock listed off while looking everywhere almost frantically.

“If you’re just making this up.” Lestrade said in a goading manner trying to get Sherlock to explain everything. John decided to take note of this trick in case he needed to get info out of Sherlock in the future, because it seemed to work.

“Her wedding ring, ten years old at least. The rest of her Jewelry has been regularly cleaned. But not her wedding ring, state of her marriage right there. The inside of the ring is shinier than the outside that means it’s regularly removed, the only polishing it gets is when she works it off her finger. It’s not for work look at her nails; she doesn’t work with her hands. So what or rather who does she removes her rings for? Clearly not one lover or she wouldn’t be able to sustain the fiction of being single of that amount of time so more likely a string of them. Simple.”

“That’s Brilliant” John said proving to himself that he really couldn’t tire of watching Sherlock work through people’s lives.

“Cardiff?”

“It’s Obvious” Sherlock stopped buzzing around and just stared at the DI.

“It’s not obvious to me?”

“What’s it like in your funny little brains it must be so boring.”

“Her coat it’s slightly damp, she’s been in heavy rain in the last few hours no rain anywhere in London in that time. Under her coat collar is damp too she’s turned it up against the wind. She’s got an umbrella in her left coat pocket, but it’s dry and unused. Not just wind strong wind, too strong for an umbrella. We know from the size of her suitcase that she intended to stay for one night, must have come a decent distance but she couldn’t have traveled more than two or three hours because her coat is still damp, where has there been heavy rain and strong wind within the radius of that travel time” Sherlock pulled out his phone. “Cardiff”

“That’s fantastic”  
“You do realize you do that out loud”  
“Sorry I’ll shut up”  
“No it’s fine”

“Why do you keep on saying suitcase?”  
“Yes where is it?” she, must of had a phone or organizer? We could find out who Rachel is.”

“She was writing Rachel?”

“No, she was writing an angry note in German, of course she was writing Rachel, no other word it can be. Now why did she wait until she was dying to write it?” John thought over the posed Question, he didn’t have to tell anyone a message upon his death, not being too close to anyone. If he was murdered he would hope it was Seamus as odd as that sounded, at least he would know who killed him. 

“How do you know she had a suitcase?”  
“Back of her right leg, tiny splash marks on the heel and calf, not present on the left, she was dragging a wheeled suitcase behind her with her right hand.” And as Sherlock was deducing this, John realized the man probably didn’t know how to move or act, he could do it all gracefully but the actions were not his own, Sherlock mimed things he said and also mimicked what he saw other people do. John felt a change in the atmosphere when Lestrade announced that there was no case, forcing John to focus once more on the outside world. 

“Say that again.”  
“There wasn’t a case, there was never any suitcase.”

After this remark Sherlock ripped through the building looking for the case. John followed an annoyed DI out of the room “It’s murder” Sherlock announced “All of them I don’t’ know how, they’re not suicides they are killings, serial killings.” Apparently in the absence needing to be serious, Sherlock’s movements became more natural and fluent as he got more excited. “We have a serial murderer on our hands” clapping like a kid “God I love those, there is always something to look forward to.”

“Why are you saying that?” Lestrade asked not wanting to resign himself to the fact he was now looking for a murderer instead of some odd cult. 

“Where is her case? Did she eat it? Someone else was here and they took her case.”

“She could have checked into her hotel and left her case there.” John pointed out. 

“No, Look at her hair” John and Lestrade exchanged confused looks “she colour coordinates her lipstick and her shoes she would never left any hotel with her hair looking so…” Sherlock abruptly stopped talking and stepped back. From the angle that John and Lestrade were at they Lost sight of him. 

“Sherlock!” Sherlock came back into view and said something, it seems Lestrade was good at reading lips though and replied.

“We can’t just wait”

“No we are done waiting really look at her” John did just that and turned back to peer into the room, decided against his original decision seeing it full of people that actually belonged there. John returned to the railing just in time to hear Sherlock practically scream Pink. 

“I better leave you to it then DI Lestrade.” And John started the trek down the stairs. 

“Name’s Greg,” The DI announced while holding out his hand.

“John Watson. Nice to officially meet you.” John returned the hand shake before continuing down the stairs. 

“So how did you meet up with Sherlock again?”

“An old friend of mine at Bart’s introduced us yesterday I was looking for a flatmate. It was purely coincidence that it happened to be Sherlock.”

“Well thank god for coincidences, he only ever listened to you. I had been trying to get him to enter rehab for months before that night. He made cases easier and I had more time with my family. I have been meaning to ask” John thought this was about that kiss only to be surprised by the DI “how did you two get kicked out of the Worlds End Pub of all places?”

John laughed “Well, fighting helps and the bouncer kicked out the druggie and the man who wasn’t buying alcoholic drinks. Easiest way to get rid of a nuisance and between losing a hundred dollar tab versus a thirty dollar one the bouncer chose me.”

“I gotta go and finish up here; I’ll see you later”

“Yes nice seeing you again Greg.” John brushed off the choice of words Lestrade used. 

“You’re not his friend.” Donovan said as he passed making John stop “He doesn’t have friends. So who are you?” She asked scanning John up and down. John was quite sick of being observed, studied, stared at and most of all Judged. 

“I’m nobody”

“Bit of advice stay away from him.”

Seeing an opportunity to ask the woman’s favorite question he did so “Why?” and zoned out her dramatic explanation about how Sherlock was a psychopath. Just before he was about to turn around and leave on the irritating woman, Lestrade yelled for her. John realized he was probably only annoyed at her because he was annoyed in general and in the cold night air his Injuries started to act up. 

“Stay away from Sherlock Holmes” she yelled over her shoulder and walked confidently towards the door. John shook his head trying to clear it and focus on getting back to his bedsit. He looked up in the night sky and he noticed Sherlock running along the roof tops, John frowned before getting distracted by a ringing phone, deciding it was a wrong number he walked down the street not seeing the cameras that followed his progress.


	6. Warehouses and hidden pasts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John gets kidnapped by Mycroft and has to face a seceret he has been hiding since he was 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t not make money or own any of the characters I just warp them to my own plots.

Chapter 6:

John Finally made it to the main street and already failed to hail two cabs. While attempting to hail the third John noticed a phone ringing in a chicken take away place, it was an odd occurrence for one public phone to ring let alone two John walked on as it stopped ringing when a confused employee tried to pick it up. The third pay phone rang and John got the Message to finally answer it with a suffering sigh John entered the phone booth. “Yes?” John said into the receiver.

“Do you see the camera to your left” a very familiar voice said on the other end, John could identify the sweet, soft voice that held promises of more sinister things anywhere. 

“Yes” John answered not wanting to show his hand to early in this little game of power play knowing Mycroft would win in many battles but John wanted an ace up his sleeve. 

“Keep watching” and John looked up and saw the camera swivel away from the view of the street; John also kept the people passing by in his peripherals this went on for two more cameras before John got the order to enter a car that had pulled up to the curb. John sat in silence beside the woman Texting on her phone, pondering how he was going to make his next move. Deciding to see how well the person beside him was trained he started tapping out Mycroft’s name in Morse code when there was a break in the woman’s typing. John had always been intrigued by the dots and dashes and kept in practice by tapping out the alphabet with his left hand, It also helped with his tremor and the finer motor skills he had lost when shot. After tapping out M-Y-C-R-O-F-T *stop*H-O-L-M-E-S*stop* John cocked his head to hear if there was a changed in tempo of the girls fingers moving across the phones QWERTY. Not being able to hear anything off he resigned him to wait until he saw the man in question for his answer. John continued tapping his fingers randomly and throwing a couple words in there for good measure waited while staring out the window until they drove into an abandoned warehouse. 

John got out of the car and was promptly offered a seat in the only chair in the room. John walked past the uncomfortable looking chair and stood within arm’s reach of Mycroft studying the man. “You could have just phoned me, on my phone.” 

“When one is avoiding the attention of Sherlock Holmes, one learns to be discreet. Have a seat your leg must be hurting you.” Mycroft gestured around with his umbrella. 

“I don’t want to sit down.”

“You don’t seem very afraid” Mycroft studies John finding none of the carefree attitude of the Captain he once knew, He had more lines and the smiles seemed harder to make appear the eyes that hid his intelligence so well last time now hid everything except the hard stare of a killer. John was irritated once more with someone else studying him, though he did realize that the woman did not know Morse and therefore Mycroft didn’t know John knew who he was. 

“You’re not very frightening.” John’s statement was laughed off that irritated john even more though he hid it well . John knew Mycroft could be a good ally. 

“Ahh yes the bravery of the soldier,” Mycroft took a breath “Bravery is by far the kindest word for stupidity don’t you think.”

John was tired of this and decided to break the game “as I recall Mycroft you didn’t think me too stupid a few years ago, nor did the academy.” John smirked at the slight widening of the eyes that flicked to the woman standing behind him. “Oh I didn’t say two words to her , well verbally anyhow.”

Mycroft cut to the chase and finally asked what he wanted to know. “What is your connection to Sherlock Holmes?”

“Brother or not I don’t see how this is any of your concern” and John watched another shift in the man’s mind. “Alright let’s cut the crap Mycroft what do you want from me?”

“You seem awfully knowledgeable Dr. Watson for someone who didn’t exist until he was 16. My team doesn’t have access to minor’s files once they are sealed but I do and even then you don’t exist.” John twitched, he knew Mycroft was going to look into him but John wasn’t sure of the extent. This could be very bad for his estranged family, John had to make a decision trust Mycroft or risk someone finding them. 

“Fine, I met Sherlock the day before I was deployed, about 5 years ago; re met him yesterday through Mike Stamford. There that’s my connection now don’t look any further into my past.” John stared at Mycroft until he got a confirmation. It seemed that whatever Mycroft saw was enough warning that if he dug even further he would regret it. John nodded and turned around. And headed towards the entrance of the warehouse not realising that he left hand stopped twitching, John now had to protect his sister and parents from afar. And maybe he would tell Mycroft later about the witness protection , Mycroft was still one of the better allies he could gain. 

“I’m to take you home” The beautiful helper said after reading a text. John gave directions to his bedsit to collect his now much needed gun. John returned to 221B by the time Sherlock texted him for the 3rd time.


	7. Real Names and Cab Chases

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John Tells Sherlock a part of his past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t not make money or own any of the characters I just warp them to my own plots.

Chapter 7:

John was out of the black car in a flash and barely used his cane trying to get into the apartment. Sherlock noticed the difference right away. “What’s gotten into you?” 

“Your caring brother may have put my family at risk, how discreet is he with his employees?” This got Sherlock interested and off of the couch. 

“He keeps a lot of information to himself so he can personally use it against people, why?” Sherlock said while studying John, it seemed he was the only one allowed to do it because John for once tonight did not feel irritated. 

“Good, that’s good. Sherlock I am only going to say this once John Hamish Watson was never born but, James McKay-Wilson was, that’s my real name I haven’t used it since I was 5 don’t even know my middle name ,and I am telling you this because I might be found if your brother decided to have a good look into my past. I am not stupid enough to believe that a 32 year old case would disappear not after what I did. “John said this rapidly after collecting camera’s that even Sherlock couldn’t find and plunking them into the sink, as Sherlock followed him around.

“I remember that name, a little boy saved his family and took down a part of the major organized crime unit within London, the father a well-respected doctor with a gambling problem could not save the mob bosses son and therefore couldn’t pay off his debt and put his family on a hit list, the assassins broke into the family’s home but woke the boy, the boy then ran to where a gun was kept and killed the two assassins and testified against all the men he knew from when he tagged along with his father to either the bookies or the loan shark, the arrests of all those men led to evidence that had the boss in jail but only for a little while. The officers couldn’t find any more incriminating evidence within the time he was in custody and was let out 6 months later, that was you?”

“Yes and all the men I put in jail are out and the ones that I didn’t are still looking for me, and my family they found us 4 times, Sherlock but it seemed that they couldn’t connect the name McKay-Wilson to Watson.” John finally calmed down and sat on a chair. “That is if your bloody brother keeps his big nose out of it, the boss had connection in the government.” John sighed, he hadn’t realized that Mycroft would look that hard, it was a small blessing that John’s files were still probably hard copy locked up in the back of a government file cabinet. “What was it that you wanted?” John asked after calming down and staring up at Sherlock hoping he would let the change of subject go and forget about this whole ordeal.

Sherlock was confused and tilted his head as if changing the axis at which his brain sat would give him the answer. “Oh, yes can I use your phone; never use my own in case, chance of the number being recognized it’s on the website.” John laughed and handed it over the simple demand made him feel like his problems paled in comparison to Sherlock’s urgent need of a Phone. 

“I need you to send a text” Sherlock announced handing back the phone and headed towards the kitchen. John did as he was told and sent a text asking to meet at 22 Northumberland Street. He couldn’t believe it; in a few seconds Sherlock had distracted him from his problem, while pulling out evidence that under normal circumstances would implicate Sherlock himself as a killer. John reflected on the life he held and realized that his normal had, and now living with Sherlock, would always revolve around death, and he was fine with that. John’s epiphany was interrupted by his phone ringing looking at the Call display John frowned. 

“Did I just text a murderer?” maybe not interrupted just confirmed the thought. 

“Obvious, if someone received that text on a phone they just found they wouldn’t ring it back, but the killer would panic. Come a long John best let big brother put up the cameras again.” And Sherlock swept out of the room leaving John to look guiltily at the sink full of stagnant water and cameras. Laughing John followed Sherlock out the door, taking his cane now only because he spent the last three month limping around with it his leg had cramped up at the sudden use of certain muscles. “What?”

“Just that your brother does seem to be the dictator George Orwell wrote about in Nineteen Eighty-Four.” Sherlock had a confused look about him. “Big Brother is watching you” John tried again. “Never mind you must have deleted that book.” John shook his head “so where are we going. 

“Northumberland Street is a five minute walk from here” Sherlock explained.

“And you think the murderer is dumb enough to go there.” John said looking at the Cameras wondering if he would see one move. John also wondered what would happen if he hung up Big brother is watching you propaganda posters around town. 

“No I think he is brilliant enough to go there. This is his hunting ground, the heart of the city. Now that we know his victims were abducted that changes everything, because all of his victims disappeared from busy streets and no one saw them. Think, who do we trust, even though we don’t know them? Who passes unnoticed, wherever they go? Who hunts in the middle of a crowd?” John takes a cursory glance at his surrounding and once more at the cameras. 

“I don’t know who?” 

“Haven’t the faintest… Hungry?” Sherlock dashed across the street towards a restaurant called Angelo’s they shown to a reserved seat by a kid named Billy, and was greeted warmly by the owner Angelo. John learned that Sherlock doesn’t eat while on the case and Angelo brought out a light pasta dish out for John. 

“So what have you been up to since the last time I saw you?” John questioned after being accused of being Sherlock’s date. 

“Mainly solving crimes, for Lestrade and some of the other DI’s on the force, I have taken a few private cases here and there.” Sherlock kept his gaze and most of his attention towards the road. John struggled to keep the silence at bay. Knowing that zoning out while Sherlock was bound to dash off into the night was probably a bad idea. 

“I have nightmares” John decided on telling Sherlock the worst about him “ I get up at 6 in the morning no matter what, I tend to fuss as I see everyone as a patient, tea is a main part of my diet , I am adequate but not the greatest at cooking as you probably deduced from my hands, again. I like to sleep but the slightest noise will wake me up until I get used to them and sort them into good or bad noises. If I feel useless I get irritable. “John said this while staring at the table and didn’t notice Sherlock’s eyes trained on him. “ I was diagnosed with PTSD though that is inaccurate, my symptoms only came about when they wanted to promote me to colonel after my recovery and effectively taking me off the front line, I wouldn’t even be fighting I would be a paper pusher. Once a week I get in a screaming match with my sister via phone and once a month I phone Clara, which leads me to walk through the city to escape.” John finished and looked up towards Sherlock and flinched back, eyes wide, as he met the other man’s intense gaze. As the two studied the other Angelo came over 

“Sherlock that Cab over there has been still for a while, no one got out and no one is getting in.” His excited voice startled the two and both men leapt out of their chairs to take chase of the Cab, Sherlock jumped over a moving car as the Cab sped away.

“I have the Cab number.” John said catching up to Sherlock. 

“useless” Sherlock seemed to be overcome with an intense headache and as john watched him he realized that he was watching Sherlock’s thought process take animation throughout the man’s body, John was mesmerized as the man threw thoughts away with a flick of the wrist and follow a path only he could see with the other before running down an ally. 

The chase was exhilarating the quick turns down ally’s, and flying from rooftop to roof top, going up and down fire escapes. It was refreshing and John loved every minute of it, it seemed nothing could hurt them they were invincible. They caught the cab quickly, only to be greeted by a tourist; apparently as invincible as they were they were still infallible. They could do nothing but laugh as they ran into the night back to 221 B Baker Street, with joy painted on their faces and the real police at their backs.


	8. chasing cars and an impromptu drug squad

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t not make money or own any of the characters I just warp them to my own plots.

As the two men entered the door to 221B they could no longer hold their laughter. Mrs. Hudson interrupted them as they fought to catch their breath sobering both of them as they rushed up to the apartment into a chaotic scene that made john very glad none of his possessions were currently residing in the building. 

“What are you doing?” asked Sherlock upon finding Lestrade in their living area. 

“I knew you would find the case I’m not stupid.” Came the casually given reply. 

“You can’t just break into my NEW flat and scare my NEW land lady Lestrade.” Lestrade’s eyes widened a bit

“So this is what you meant when you said see you later so knowingly? This, whatever this is” John said while gesturing around the room at all the people milling about. 

“Yes, Lestrade do tell what is going on here?” Sherlock asked still glaring. 

“It’s a drugs bust” that one statement gobsmacked John, and Sherlock looked a little hurt, and Lestrade to his credit looked ashamed of his decision. “Sherlock you can’t withhold evidence. I invite you in but you have to work with us”

“I’m not your sniffer dog,”

“No, but Anderson is.” 

“Anderson, what are you doing on a drugs bust?” 

“I volunteered” was the smug reply.

“They all did, they are not strictly on the drug squad.” This made Sherlock and John relax a bit, given that they don’t’ have too much training in looking for and recognizing drugs. John looked at all the people practically destroying the place. Until he met Donovan’s eyes as she smirked. 

“Are these Human eyes?” she held up a jar and pointedly looked at John.   
“Put those back”  
“They were in the microwave.” John looked away trying to keep his front towards the police just in case his running hooked his shirt on his gun.   
“It’s an experiment”

“Keep looking guys or you can start helping and I can stand them down.”

“I am clean.”

“Is your flat, all of it?” 

“I don’t even smoke” Sherlock said rolling up his sleeve.

“Neither do it” Lestrade pulled his sleeve up “now let’s work together, we found Rachel.” 

“Her daughter, why would she be writing her daughter’s name; we have to interview her I have to interview her.” 

“Never mind that we found the case, someone said that the killer would have it, and we found it in the hands of our favorite psychopath.”

“I am not a psychopath Anderson I am high functioning sociopath…” Lestrade cut Sherlock off.

“Rachel was Jennifer Wilson’s stillborn daughter.”

“That’s not right, why would she do that” Sherlock looked utterly confused.

“Why would she think of her daughter in her dying moments, Sociopath, I see it now” Anderson goaded.

“She didn’t just think of her daughter she carved her name in the floor it took time, it hurt.” As Sherlock puzzled over the recent clue, Mrs. Hudson came through wondering what was going one , as she was about to leave she turned around. “Sherlock your Taxi is here.”

“I didn’t order a Taxi”   
“He seemed quite Persistent” Mrs. Hudson continued.  
“MRS.HUDSON, please. “ Sherlock burst out making the poor woman squeak and everyone else stop what they were doing. “Silence, I need silence. Anderson turn around your face is throwing me off”.

“Everyone Quiet, Anderson turn around” Lestrade ordered the horde of officers.  
“Oh for the love of...” Anderson trailed off as he turned his back to Sherlock. 

Sherlock turned towards John “If you were dying what would you say?”

“Please God let me live.” John answered automatically thinking of when he was shot.

“No, use your imagination” 

“I don’t have to” Sherlock eyes widened slightly at this and seemed to check if John was still fatally wounded. 

“If you were smart, really smart, Jenifer Wilson was smart running those lovers she had to be” Sherlock spun around to john it looked like he was trying to jump start his brain. “Who was the message for?”

“Us…” John said as he walked towards the chair in front of the bag. 

“What do you mean us?” Sherlock looked utterly lost.

“My sister said that if I didn’t phone every week she would be able to find me using my phone, it has GPS and she set up the account. And you said she left her phone with a killer…”

“John you’re brillia…” Sherlock cut John off and trailed off as his phone beeped “I’m going to step out for a bit. Explain John. “And with that Sherlock bounded down the stairs. 

“What were you two talking about?” Lestrade asked.

“Rachel is Jenifer Wilson’s password for her Phone’s email.” John explained after memorizing the email to type into the computer.

“So we can read her emails.”

“Weren’t you listening, I said there was GPS.” John said as all the information went through “see right here. “ John clicked on the tracker. As it started searching John looked out the window as Sherlock got into a cab. “He left?”

“What?” Lestrade asked   
“Sherlock just left in that cab.”

“I told you he does that” Donovan said. 

“No you told me he was a psychopath and that I should run.” John responded while looking at the screen. The GPS blinked and showed it was moving down Baker Street before blinking out again.

“Do you have anything?” Lestrade asked.

Donovan sneered as John looked up to answer “I don’t’ know why we always call the freak in, we are wasting our time her anyway.”

John had enough of the people in his flat “well if you don’t like calling, Sherlock, in then maybe you shouldn’t volunteer you precious time coming to his flat just to piss the man off, instead of I don’t know doing your Job.” Donovan was speechless at the quiet man’s outburst.

“Watch what you say cripple we can make life hard for you” Anderson threatened. 

“Lestrade call your dog off you came here to talk to Sherlock he’s gone now I just want to sit down and relax in my flat.” John sighed and sat down in what was quickly becoming his chair. 

“Sorry John, alright wrap it up, Donovan and Anderson your coming with me we will talk about the punishment you will be receiving for threatening and insulting a civilian.” As all the people left Lestrade lingered behind “I really am sorry John I should have thou...”

“It’s alright Greg, I am just having a stressful day is all I’ll call The Yard if the search comes up with anything. “ 

“I’ll see you around yeah.” Lestrade looked at John who was staring intently at the screen.

“Sure thing” John looked up in time to see Lestrade leave through the door.


	9. cabs and killers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t not make money or own any of the characters I just warp them to my own plots.

John had calmed down, and everyone had left by the time the computer beeped again signalling it once more found the phone. He quickly ran out of the flat and hailed a cab with the lap top in tow. Directing the poor confused cabbie was a hassle, but if John’s suspicions were correct then Sherlock was in a worse situation with a serial killer. Finally answering the questions posed earlier by Sherlock, of who do we trust, the same questions that Sherlock obviously already answered when he left. As the dot seemed to come to a full stop John decided it was time to deal with the emergency line of the NSY, having no way to contact Lestrade directly. John had reached what looked like a college by the time he finished jumping through hoops to relay the situation to the gray haired DI. 

~*~

“You know John had a point with doing your jobs, No one is forcing you to work with Sherlock or even go on drugs busts.” Lestrade said to the two glaring people in front of him.

“Oh so it’s John now, when did you get all chummy with the freaks crippled pet?” Sally asked only a little annoyed that the respected DI was so adamant on this punishment. 

“John, Dr. Watson,” Lestrade amended conceding that being on familiar terms right now probably wasn’t’ the best idea “is above all else a civilian. And you have insulted and threatened him in his own home no less on a bullshit drugs bust.” The detective Inspectors voice rose in volume with every word spoken, causing the other two people in the room to flinch. “And why are you calling him a cripple?”

“He has a cane, and he looks frumpy and pathetic.” Anderson answered as if it was obvious. Lestrade’s mind started to compare the description of John to the soldier he met on that fateful night years ago. Admittedly the man they just left resembled nothing of the soldier that went off to war. The easy grin was nowhere to be found within the lines that graced the man’s face; the solid muscle under a sweater was barely visible, the kindness that was so prominent in his eyes was now hidden under a steeliness that can only be achieved by walking through hell and back many times over. It dawned on Lestrade that the other two had no clue that they met a war veteran, only seeing the façade that he projected.

“And what gives you the right to call him a cripple, cane or not. You are part of the NYS and you both swore an oath when you got the job, to prevent ALL offences against people and property. You are not above the oath you partook nor can you dismiss it so easily, the oath is there for your protection and the protection of the civilians, and that is why I am punishing you. Anderson and Donovan you are not going on field work after this case until you prove that you can uphold your duty.”

“You don’t get this worked up when we insult the freak” Donovan argued

“Sherlock has always said that it is disruptive to the work for me to reprimand the team for their less than ideal behaviour. I have worked with him a lot longer than I have you two, you are not the first to insult him nor will you be the last, though you two are the first to not improve your detective skills what so ever and seem happy to be locked in your stations.” At that statement Anderson and Donovan looked at Lestrade disbelievingly “You have been working for me for two years now Sherlock six and in that time the people he worked with have become sergeants and DI’s myself included. As for your side Anderson Sherlock worked with the other forensic teams quite well and developed the scientific method you use today, I suggest you go talk to your head of department.” Lestrade gestured to the door. “I will not change my ruling, now we still have a serial killer on the loose and Sherlock and John have figured more out then the both of you combined.” As the two left Lestrade put his head in his hands and took a breath, he agreed with john it had been a stressful day and it was looking to be a long night as well.

“Detective, there is a man on the phone that seems pretty adamant on talking to you personally.” A young officer said after knocking on the door. 

“Thank you put him through.” Lestrade answered the phone as soon as it rang “This is Detective inspector Lestrade.”

“Greg, thank god, Sherlock went after the killer. More like he got in the killer cabbie’s taxi”

“John, hold on catch me up here for a second.”

“The Taxi that Sherlock left in it was the killer, that’s how he lured all those people in they were just looking for a ride. The GPS narrowed it down I gave the address to whoever answered the phone the first time” John just finished saying this as the officer put a piece of paper in front of him will all the info he needed.

“Alright I am on my way there, thanks John for the help.” Greg hung up the phone and prepared to leave. 

On the way to the address Lestrade’s car radio reported shots fired at the location he was headed. Lestrade’s stomach dropped and so did his foot on the gas. It took an achingly long five minutes to reach the scene, Lestrade was glad to have Donovan beside him to call in the Ambulance. Lestrade flew out of his car and headed towards the right building as Sherlock came out. “You alright?” Lestrade asked doing a quick scan of Sherlock.

“Second floor, eight doors on the right.” Sherlock reported seemingly absolutely bored already.

“For god sake Sherlock are you alright?” Lestrade asked again. “Never mind, you’re getting checked out by the paramedics anyhow.” And Lestrade herded Sherlock to the ambulance that just arrived. Lestrade looked back once more before heading to the room Sherlock indicated. When he arrived he was handed a piece of paper that said gun in room lighter, poison capsules, tedious. When he was done reading the note obviously from Sherlock, Forensics had numbered all the evidence and were taking pictures of the scene. Lestrade examined everything and then he glanced at the window. He let out a slow whistle in admiration of the shooter, Lestrade didn’t care that it was a killing shot he could admire a marksmen. Figuring he wasn’t going to gain anything else he exited the building hoping to see Sherlock still with the paramedics.

~*~

John ran around down a few blocks and hailed a cab to head back to the crime scene. John climbed out of the cab to come face to face with an annoyed looking Donovan.

“Is Sherlock alright?” John asked when he came within arms distance of the angry woman. 

“He’s perfect as always.” Donovan looked disappointed and almost jealous of that fact. 

“What happened?”

“The cabbie was shot, I don’t know much more than that” Donovan left John standing there after that to talk to another officer. After a few minutes of standing at attention John felt at ease with the chaos around him and enjoyed the moment for a little while waiting for Sherlock to once again drag him off. Turns out John didn’t have to wait long.

“Are you alright?” Sherlock asked.

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”

“I’m not the one who just killed a man.”

“Oi, keep your voice down.” John reprimanded as they walked by Donovan.

“Well, are you alright?”

“He wasn’t a very nice man.” Was the only answer John gave?

“No I suppose he wasn’t, and a bloody awful cabbie, you should have seen the route he took to get here.” And with that statement both were trying to stifle their giggles, only to be interrupted by Sherlock’s brother.

“Please do grow up, this is a crime scene” the drawled words sobered the two up pretty quickly.

“What are you doing here?”

“I came to … Apologize” Mycroft looked as though the very word tasted like dung “To Mr.”  
“Doctor.” Sherlock corrected.

“…Watson, I understand that I may have put you at risk. And I have taken the liberty to put extra surveillance on your parents and sister?”

“My parents are still alive?” John asked stunned. 

“Of course they are” 

“Oh, I thought they might have, you know drunk themselves to death by now, but alive is good”

Now it was Mycroft’s turn to look stunned John seemed to know nothing of his parent’s wellbeing. “They have been sober since you joined the army, John” the emotions that danced across Johns face was intriguing to Both Holmes brothers, they studied them as it was the most John had shown to either of them. Shock dropped Johns jaw happiness shone through his eyes and shame danced across his cheeks, and excitement made john vibrate from his head to his toes. For Sherlock it was hard to understand this reaction, Mycroft having a better grasp on emotions could understand one or two emotions, but the warring feelings shown by john baffled him. Both wondered how one person who was so closed off could show so much with so little. 

“You are sure they are sober? Not becoming functional alcoholics? Are they happy?” John asked.

“The file says sober, and they appear to be happy.” The woman who was in the car from earlier handed Mycroft a folder “Here is their basic information” John hesitantly held out his hand. It wasn’t as if John hated his parents, nor was he scared of them it was just he hadn’t seen them since he was sixteen. He finally accepted the thin folder from Mycroft’s hand “You can keep that John, it’s just a copy.”

“Thank you.” John tucked the folder in his jacket and subconsciously gripped his phone 

“If that is all, I am hungry and we best be off.” Sherlock grabbed johns arm and practically ran from his brother, even though it was Sherlock who texted him in the first place.

“Why are you excited?” John asked noticing Sherlock’s giddiness for the first time.

“Moriarty” Sherlock said and John’s eyes widened. 

“What is Moriarty?” John asked making sure to keep his voice curious.

“I don’t know.” John let Sherlock ponder the new puzzle as they walked away from the scene behind them. John knew Seamus wasn’t dead even though the rest of the world thought so but it seemed he kept the name that John christened him with.


End file.
